


Little elves

by SedaIlandereKaden



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Elves, Fluff and Humor, Other, Short One Shot, badass kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14325390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SedaIlandereKaden/pseuds/SedaIlandereKaden
Summary: Ever imagined the Scoia’tael as small kids? Think of an elven kindergarten… One-shot.(Connected to my story ‘Warning signs’ – if you don’t recognize some characters, but can be read as a stand-alone story as well.)





	Little elves

The 5-year old blondie was frowning and scratching his head staring at the three small elven kids in front of him.

The dark brown haired girl with multiple braids on her head was holding one of her them in her hand, staring at its missing end and crying loudly:  
“Mweheeheee… Whyyyy…?”  
The end of her braid was lying at the feet of little Iorveth, standing there with an evil twinkle in his emerald green eyes and scissors in his hand. Opposite to him the auburn-haired small Coinneach was frowning as well, little hands folded on his chest:  
“Toru will punch your face for that!” he said in a huffy voice.  
As if she had heard that, a black haired small she-elf came running, picking up speed shortly in front of little Iorveth and crashing him to the ground. Her small fists started raining down on his face:  
“Bad Iorverth! Bad! Bad! Lia is my friend!” she continued to beat him with her little hands even when the almost black haired elf released the scissors from his hand and started to punch her back.  
  
Now the blond haired grey-eyed kid stepped closer, punching them both from the side:  
“Stop it or gran will punish us!”  
“But he has started, Is!” yelled small Toruviel and continued her assault on Iorveth’s face.  
Liadan was only continuing to cry, hugged by little Coinneach:  
“I will make you a new braid, nobody will see!”  
  
The commotion didn’t go unnoticed by another group of elven kids playing in the sandbox nearby. Little Riordain stomped over ostentatiously, pushing Coinneach’s arms away and threateningly – if that was even possible for a 5-year old - waiving with a small fist in front of Coinneach’s face:  
“Don’t touch her!”  
Little Coinneach turned towards small Isengrim and shrugged, waiting for him to say something. Just at the right time another blond green-eyed elven kid came running from the sandbox:  
“Need help, Is?” asked little Treasach.  
The grey-eyed elf with little blue dots in his irises threw him a broody look and nodded. Then they both grabbed the fighting pair of kids and towed them away from each other. Toru’s small fists were still flailing helplessly in the air, while little Iorverth only grinned back at her maliciously – if that was even possible for a 5-year old…  
  
Another cinnamon-haired kid came closer sheepishly holding a small flower in his hands and stretched his arm towards the small crying Liadan:  
“For you, so you don’t cry…” little Meallan was handing it over heavily blushing.  
Small Riordain frowned at him and watched as little Lia took the flower with a sulky face, still heavily sobbing. Riordain’s hand went into the pocket of his trousers and produced a white handkerchief. Fumbling with it awkwardly he tried to clean Liadan’s face only to smear all the tears and snots across her cheeks…

“What did I tell you kids?! No fighting!” sounded a yell from a nearby bench underneath a chestnut tree.  
“See! I told you gran will be angry!” whispered menacingly - if that was even possible for a 5-year old -  little Isengrim.  
Small Iorveth avoided his look and drew strange circles with his foot in the leaves on the ground:  
“‘M sorry…” he said in an offended manner concentrating on his toes.

Little Isengrim sighed heavily: “We should go back to the sandbox.”  
“I want to shoot arrows! Let’s hit something!” whispered excitingly small Coinneach.  
“Yes! Let’s make a dh’oine straw doll and shoot it!” little Iorveth agreed with a huge grin on his childish face.  
Small Isengrim rolled his eyes: “Just don’t let gran see us…”  
The group of elven kids sneaked out from the playground as best as 5-year olds could do.

In an amazing show of cooperation the little elves managed to make a straw doll in just about twenty minutes. Tying it to a tree while small Treasach sneaked away to get their kids' bows.  
When he returned accompanied by a little black-haired elf with golden brown eyes, small Coinneach squeaked happily:  
“Where were you, Deag?”  
Small Deagan had a happy smile on his face when seeing the straw doll:  
“Are you shooting dh’oine again? Why didn’t you call me…”

The kids took their tiny bows and started raining down arrows on the poor straw doll with clumsily painted rounded ears on it. Loud childish cheers could be heard far and wide every time an arrow hit the straw doll’s crotch, eyes or ears…

“Didn’t I tell you not to make dh’oine dolls again?!” gran’s voice sounded like a nasty thunder to all the 5-year olds behind the kindergarten hut.  
The little elves froze, each one of them staring down at their own feet, heads hanging down. Although small Toruviel and Liadan couldn’t suppress a giggle.  
Gran turned towards little Isengrim, her finger pointing to his face:  
“And didn’t I tell you to keep your little ‘gang’ in check?”  
Small Isengrim frowned heavily, but said apologetically: “Yes, gran…”  
“You’re all grounded! Go back into the hut, we’ll have lunch soon. And you won’t see your bows for at least a week!”  
“But… gran!” little Deagan objected.  
“Quiet! Was that your idea?!” gran’s finger pointed now at little Iorveth’s head.  
The small elf was just again drawing strange circles with his foot in the leaves on the ground, not wanting to look at gran’s angry face.  
“’Twas mine…” whispered small Liadan with unidentifiable smears across her face eliciting looks of disbelief from all the elven kids around her.  
“I doubt that! Now go – all of you!”

The group moved towards the hut and gran had to suppress a laugh watching little Isengrim kicking their small butts with angry whispers all the way until they’ve disappeared around the corner.  
Gran looked at the straw doll heavily resembling a hedgehog and scratched her head wondering who of those little brats made some of the perfect shots.  
She shrugged and collecting all the arrows and bows, returned back to the hut as well…


End file.
